Distractions
by kalinmarie
Summary: Can Bruce Wayne live without The Dark Knight? Takes place after TDKR. Slightly AU. Bruce/OC later on. Reviews make me happy.


**Authors Note: I honestly have no idea where this came from. I meant to write a quick one-shot but it seemed to grow, haha. Let me know if I should continue or not! :) Reviews make me happy. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Sadly. I'd love to have Bruce Wayne. *sigh***

All that is gold does not glitter.  
Not all those who wander are lost;  
the old that is strong does not wither,  
deep roots are not reached by the frost.  
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
a light from the shadows shall spring.  
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,  
the crownless again shall be King. -J.R.R Tolkien.

He was named the Prince of Gotham the moment the earth first heard his high-pitched wail, screaming at the new sights of the world before him, grasping for the only comfort he had known for months. The moment he had left the womb, the world expected a king to rise. He would be the knight in shining armor for Gotham City, the light at the end of the tunnel. The pressure that the city had put on him felt like the weight of the world ontop of his young shoulders. When his parents had died, it began weighing down even heavier. His father had ruled the once powerful and bright city, and Bruce Wayne was expected to be the next ruler. The hope. When his father died, the hope did not. It thrived, it lived inside of a young child's body, visible to even the darkest of villains. Because of him, Gotham City was given hope. The city would rise, surely. Because of Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, the Dark Knight.

_

He sat stiffly in the office chair, elbows propped on his wooden desk, absent-mindedly stroking the hot coffee mug with his scarred thumb as he listened to Lucius and an employee bickering over a new idea to bring in more money to Wayne Enterprises. Truthfully, Lucius had brought the other man into his office so that Bruce could give his opinion on the matter, but he'd barely listened at all. He had other things on his mind that morning, the rain beating down on the window was just a simple reminder of the night that he'd watched go by in his other world. Clad in his armor, the rain had soaked him as he chased after yet another ruthless villain.

For the first time in months, the person got away.

He'd gotten distracted. And in his other world, distraction was not allowed. Distraction would ruin him, kill him, destroy him. Distractions caused mistakes, and he had no rooms for even the smallest mistake. The new scars that would surely mark his left arm were just proof of that. Just a few inches up and over, and the masked person from the other night would've made a possibly fatal blow. He knew the armor. He knew what to use and how to use his weapons. And that worried him more than any recent thug he'd beaten up lately had.

"Mr. Wayne?" Lucius cleared his throat impatiently, brown eyes rolling. "Please, break out of your daze for a moment if I may bother you."

Bruce looked up from the liquid in his cup, a fake smirk growing on his face just like he'd practiced for over 38 years. He'd long since mastered arrogance and attitude, no one could read him. No one could see how much it pained him to act like such a shame. He'd managed to shame the Wayne name just for justice of it. He'd ruined himself, too. He'd sworn to Alfred that he would quit trying after Bane had taken over Gotham less than two years ago. He'd promised to Selina that he would be with her forever, but after 6 months in Italy, Selina had left and he had come back to his home. His forever home. He'd learned that there was no taming feral cats, and wondered if he would ever be content with the justice he'd already been given. He couldn't bring himself to leaving The Dark Knight forever just to become Arrogant, Rich Bruce Wayne. But at the same time, he couldn't be Batman forever.

"Sorry, Fox." He apologized sarcastically, face turning serious in mere seconds. "I agree with you." He'd learned that agreeing with Lucius was always the safe route for the days that he couldn't be bothered to do his own research on the matters.

"So..set the charity gala for this month, Mr. Wayne?" Except his theory of always agreeing with Lucius seemed to backfire dramatically this time. Bruce hated galas - spending hours on end with rich snobs in one room wasn't exactly his cup of tea, even though in society's eyes, he was one of them. He dreaded every one of them, and would much rather sign a big check for the charity and fake a sickness. But considering he'd done that twice in a row, he was left with no other option.

"Send me the invite and info. I'll be there with a big, fat check." He stood, tossing a wink at Lucius. If there was anyone that knew him best, other than Alfred and Selina, it was him. And he knew precisely what he was doing to him. Besides, him and Alfred had began a new scheme to find him another woman, after the whole Selina thing had occurred and he'd come back home and "moped" according to his butler. It wouldn't surprise him at all if Lucius had planned this simply to invite Gotham's (and surrounding cities) most beautiful bachelorettes. Lord knows it wouldn't be the first dating game/gala he'd attended. "Now, if you two gentleman will excuse me, I have some other business to attend to."

His other office was quite unlike the one at Wayne Enterprises. He shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it and his tie across the piano as he played the out of tune keys, the door to his cave opening quickly as he crossed over the threshold. Alfred would fuss at him later for the mess, but he had no time to fool with it at the moment. He didn't have the time to wait until dark to begin his next job. He would've preffered to get more sleep in, but after how last night changed in such a hurry...he doubted he could even sleep. What he had expected to be a milk run turned out to be much more than that. How did that villain know where to hit? How did he know where the weak spots in his armor were? How did he know his route? It was too much to be simple irony or chance. He either had himself an extremely smart stalker, or someone close had betrayed him.

He hoped it was the first thing.

In this line of work, the most important thing to him was the small group of people he'd trusted in, confided in. He'd already lost Rachel, and then Selina. He didn't think he could lose another. Despite how rough things got in Italy, he knew Selina wouldn't betray him. A small part of him hoped the main reason behind that was that she still loved him, but he knew better than to hope too hard. Especially when it came to Selina.

He shook his head, banishing the thoughts away for another time. He couldn't afford another slip up tonight, couldn't let his mind wander again. He suited up, lowering his mask securely on his face and heading out into the evening mist, sun setting on his back. He could practically hear the doors of concerned citizens locking as it grew darker and darker, and saw the villains begin marching out. One day, Gotham would rise again, and the good would no longer fear the darkness.


End file.
